the Prince of Orange himself, at this period, although never addicted to
habitual excess, was extremely convivial in his tastes, tolerating scenes
and companions, not likely at a later day to find much favor in his
sight. "We kept Saint Martin's joyously," he wrote, at about this period,
to his brother, "and in the most jovial company. Brederode was one day in
such a state that I thought he would certainly die, but he has now got
over it." Count Brederode, soon afterwards to become so conspicuous in
the early scenes of the revolt, was, in truth, most notorious for his
performances in these banqueting scenes. He appeared to have vowed as
uncompromising hostility to cold water as to the inquisition, and always
denounced both with the same fierce and ludicrous vehemence. Their
constant connection with Germany at that period did not improve the
sobriety of the Netherlands' nobles. The aristocracy of that country, as
is well known, were most "potent at potting." "When the German finds
himself sober," said the bitter Badovaro, "he believes himself to be
ill." Gladly, since the peace, they had welcomed the opportunities
afforded for many a deep carouse with their Netherlands cousins. The
approaching marriage of the Prince of Orange with the Saxon princess--an
episode which will soon engage our attention--gave rise to tremendous
orgies. Count Schwartzburg, the Prince's brother-in-law, and one of the
negotiators of the marriage, found many occasions to strengthen the bonds
of harmony between the countries by indulgence of these common tastes. "I
have had many princes and counts at my table," he wrote to Orange, "where
a good deal more was drunk than eaten. The Rhinegrave's brother fell down
dead after drinking too much malvoisie; but we have had him balsamed and
sent home to his family."

These disorders among the higher ranks were in reality so extensive as to
justify the biting remark of the Venetian: "The gentlemen intoxicate
themselves every day," said he, "and the ladies also; but much less than